


So Please Don't Go

by Shaleschnueffler



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Sam Winchester, Comfort/Angst, Confusion, Desperation, Emotional Hurt, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Fear, Fear of loss, Gabriel Won't Listen, Hurt Gabriel (Supernatural), Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Pride, Protective Gabriel, Protective Sam Winchester, Sabriel Is My Tea, Sad, Self-Sacrifice, Separation Anxiety, This started out as fluff I swear, Wounds, no deaths tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 18:13:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18168479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleschnueffler/pseuds/Shaleschnueffler
Summary: Gabriel returns to the bunker, bleeding and hurt. Sam mends the wounds he is refusing to heal.





	So Please Don't Go

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as simple Hurt/Comfort, I swear. But my dear friend told me to "make it sad and depressing and beautiful" when I was trying to come up with an ending sentence, so here, take this instead.

Sam was sitting in the war room, shuffling papers and books around on the desk in an attempt to find the notes buried somewhere below. He ran a hand through his hair with an annoyed huff when he wasn't quick enough to stop the pen that was slowly rolling towards the edge of the table; and it fell to the ground with a clattering sound that seemed deafeningly loud in the silence of the bunker.  
  
Just when he'd bent down and had been about to pick it up again, a familiar sound rang out from above and had him freeze for a second, forgetting about the pen. Curiously, Sam sat up straight again, eyes set on the staircase that led up to the bunker's entrance; but he didn't call out just yet.  
  
It couldn't be Gabriel. The archangel didn't even use entrances unless he had to, as he preferred snapping himself everywhere he wanted to go.  
  
Plus, the door had been opened slowly, carefully - and without a single word. Therefore, it wasn't Dean either, for he would've said something upon returning, because he knew exactly that the taller hunter would be looking through lore in the war room for another few hours. Sam had volunteeringly stayed behind to keep Cas and Dean updated, and find out more about the creature they were hunting while the two of them were on their way to the scene of event.  
  
The door shut with an unexpectedly loud bang that made Sam flinch in surprise, before complete silence settled down again.   
  
It wasn't Cas then, either.  
  
Dammit.  
  
Now fully neverminding the pen, he got up as quietly, yet quickly, as he could and snuck closer towards the staircase to press up against the wall, hoping to stay both unseen and unheard for a little longer; at least until he'd figured out how to deal with this unknown intruder. For a split second, he regretted the comments he'd made about Dean always keeping a gun or knife on him, no matter where he went; but the barely audible sound of slow, shuffling steps pulled him back to reality. He kept quiet and held his breath, listening intently to keep track of the person's - creature's? - exact position on the stairs, eyes set on the feet descending them.  
  
It took him a few seconds to recognize the blood-covered shoes, but even when he did, he forced himself to stand down. His breath hitched for a second as a pained groan broke the silence, but although the voice was more than familiar, he kept waiting without moving a single muscle.  
  
Shapeshifter. Siren. It could be anything.  
  
Maybe it was just him trying to find explanations for this that didn't involve a hurt and bleeding Gabriel walking down the stairs of the bunker. It probably was. It definitely was. He would prefer _anything_ over this.  
  
However, when he saw his boyfriend walk towards the hallway that led to their rooms, dragging his feet and pressing a hand to his own shoulder, presumably trying to stop a wound from bleeding, he snapped. Pushing off from the cold stone wall, he strode over to the angel who whipped around with a surprised expression on his slashed face. The anger mixed with slight anxiety that he'd felt before had given way for worry a few seconds ago, which was now replaced by some sort of cold nagging fear and a heavy sadness that pulled at his heart when he locked eyes with Gabriel, and saw the forced smile on his pale lips.  
  
\- "Hey there, Sammich!", the archangel greeted, flashing the taller man a confident smirk, but Sam didn't even slow down for a second, simply walking closer until he could cup Gabriel's face with his hands; and although the angel winced in pain and attempted to back up, the hunter looked him over without letting go.  
  
\- "What happened?", he asked, softly but demandingly, running a hand through his boyfriend's hair who proceeded to attempt to get away from Sam's touch, from the fingers that were uncomfortably grazing his wounds.  
  
\- "Whoa, Sambrador; affectionate much?", Gabriel chuckled in response, but the way he clenched his jaw was enough for Sam to see that he was definitely staging. Fuck Gabriel and his damn pride - not literally, mind you. Or well, maybe...-  
  
Okay, this was definitely going into the wrong direction, _again_.  
  
Placing his hands on Gabriel's shoulders - careful not to touch the wound the angel had been pressing onto and that seemed to be more grave than Sam would've thought, judging by the clearly visible dark red stain -, he raised his voice again; way more urging this time.  
  
\- "Stop it", he downright growled, meeting Gabriel's eyes, _"What happened?"_  
  
The angel shrugged as well as he could with the bleeding injuries that were obviously agonizing him, and with Sam's hands still tightly holding on to him.  
  
\- "Nothing. Just got tangled up with a bunch of demons. Don't worry, Sammy, I'm good."  
  
\- "Why didn't you heal them?"  
  
\- "Huh?"  
  
\- "The wounds. Why are they still there."  
  
Somewhere off to his left, his phone rang, and Gabriel peered over before raising an eyebrow at the hunter, silently asking if he didn't want to pick up; but Sam ignored it. If Gabe had really wanted to get out of there, he would've done so already - assuming he was even only at half strength -, since the archangel was much more powerful than a normal human being, but he didn't exactly want to risk anything just so Dean and Cas could get two more pieces of information from him. Yes, those were definitely rookie numbers, and he, being a legacy and an experienced hunter, should've found way more info on whatever it was they were hunting in such a long time, but somehow, he hadn't been able to concentrate. Maybe he'd _felt_ that something was wrong. Gabriel had mentioned some _"weird things"_ that went with mating, so it was possible that _this_ , whatever _this_ was, was one of these _things_ , right?  
  
He kind of liked the idea, if he was being honest.  
  
That was when he noticed that Gabriel still hadn't answered his question. But instead of pressing further, he let his left hand slide down the angel's arm without pressure until he was finally able to slowly intertwine their fingers.  
  
\- "Come on", he breathed softly and started walking, not letting go of the calloused, red-coated hand he was clasping with his own. Gabriel trailed behind wordlessly, letting himself get dragged along without a single sign of resistance. When Sam cast a quick glance back over his shoulder, he could see the tension in the shorter man's body, and the pain that was clearly perceivable on his features, but as soon as Gabriel noticed, he slapped on a smile again; playfully winking at the hunter while suppressing the obvious pain he was in. Sam tried his hardest not to feel deeply hurt by the gesture but failed miserably; and so he tightened his grip on his boyfriend's hand and turned to face forward again.  
  
The fact that the archangel was still attempting to cover up his pain and distress with stupid jokes and comments; the fact that he was worse than _Dean_ when it came to hiding his misery, was nothing but painful to Sam, on so many levels. Of course, he did it too, now and then; but when Gabriel demanded to heal his wounds, he let him. When Gabriel asked him to talk about his struggles, and problems, and doubts, he did, at least partly. And everything he wanted, everything he was asking from the angel, was that, _just once_ , he got off his high horse and did the same - that he understood that accepting help wasn't a sign of weakness. That he admitted that he was suffering, at least physically.  
  
Because honestly, none of them were exactly one to lecture people on honesty when it came to mental conditions.  
  
\- "You need to stop doing this", Sam huffed softly once they'd reached his room, and he'd guided Gabriel over to the bed where the angel had sat down without a word. Averting his gaze, he tried to avoid Sam's searching eyes, and much to the hunter's frustration, the attempt was crowned with success. He wordlessly accepted it - although he couldn't really cover up his disappointment - and simply knelt down on the floor in front of the angel instead. Surprised that Gabriel didn't protest when he lifted his hands to slowly, carefully start to unbutton the torn dark red shirt, he continued. From afar, the blood splatters probably weren't even noticeable; that would at least explain how it had been even _possible_ for him to make it back to the bunker.  
  
\- "Eager, are we?", the angel laughed breathlessly, and Sam rolled his eyes. Gabriel obviously wasn't in that much pain anymore, now that he was motionlessly sitting and could breathe normally; and so the hunter was willing to sit through at least a small amount of idiotic comments.  
  
\- "It doesn't make you weak to admit you're hurting", he murmured, not really expecting a reaction. He just wanted Gabe to know.  
  
As he'd thought, he got nothing. No response, no smile. The archangel just kept staring at the wall. It reminded him of the time shortly after Gabriel had returned to the bunker, and Sam had patched him up. Except this time, there were no trusting, caring whiskey eyes looking up at him while he mended the angel's wounds. This time, Gabriel was silent; avoiding his eyes at all costs.  
  
It would be okay, he told himself. In an hour or so, they would be okay again. He just still had to learn how to cope and deal with some of Gabriel's moods.  
  
Even more gentle than before, and careful not to accidentally touch any bruises or wounds, Sam slipped off the button-up, feeling kind of sad when he threw it to the other side of the room where it landed somewhere near the trash bin. He'd loved seeing this shirt on his boyfriend. It had been his favorite, actually. Why Gabriel had gone _anywhere_ wearing this comparatively fancy piece of clothing was a mystery to him; and he purposely pushed the question to the back of his mind, trying to ignore the nagging worry and jealousy that came with the thought that Gabriel had, for some reason, put on the same thing that he'd worn during their first date. And second. And third.  
  
\- "I can fix it, Sammich, don't worry"  
  
He tore his eyes away from the soaked red pile on the floor to meet Gabriel's gleaming eyes. Just when he opened his mouth, wanting to respond, he laid eyes on the angel's bare chest - if one could even call it bare. It was covered with blood that was welling from multiple wounds gracing his whole upper body. Sam suppressed the urge to gag at the sight, and swallowed thickly, forgetting about what he'd been about to say.  
  
\- "Can you fix this too?", he demanded to know, his voice cold and quavering instead of loving and tender, and Gabriel tensed noticeably.  
  
\- "I-"  
  
\- "Can you", Sam growled, placing a hand on his boyfriend's knee, luckily not touching any wounds in the process, "Or can you not."  
  
Again, the angel looked away, eyes darting anywhere but to the taller man, and Sam got up with an exhausted sigh, feeling Gabriel's gaze drill into his back as he walked over to the door.  
  
\- "I'll go get some stuff. Don't you dare move", he informed, exhaling audibly, casting the archangel one last threatening glance before he left the room, carefully shutting the door behind himself. He had to go get some towels, clean bandages, some thread, and one or two needles. Because for some unknown reason, Gabriel refused to heal his own wounds - or he was low on grace or something, and was just too proud to admit that he'd had to use a lot of his power to smite some demons that normally shouldn't pose a threat to a creature like him. The archangel had always had a little problem concerning his ego, although Sam knew exactly that, despite the arrogant and confident facade, Gabriel tended to drown in his own thoughts, worries, and fears. And so the only thing he could do for his lover right now was mend his wounds, and attempt to take his fear away, to make him feel loved, and respected, and at home at the same time, if only for a few hours.  
  
Having absentmindedly collected all the things that he needed and some more, just in case three towels and two rolls of bandage weren't enough - which he really hoped _wasn't_ the case -, he made his way back to his own room; relieved to find Gabriel still sitting on the exact same spot as before, gazing at his feet. The hunter placed the essentials down on the bed next to the angel, and crouched down to finally get rid of the shoes that Gabe still hadn't taken off before he shoved them aside so they weren't in the way. Reaching out to grab one of the towels he'd soaked in cool water before, he carefully started to take a closer look at the severity of the wounds that, fortunately, had mostly stopped bleeding.  
  
Many superficial scratches and some bruises ranging in color from yellow to blue covered the archangel's face, chest, and sides, but what worried Sam the most was, in fact, the deep gash in Gabriel's left shoulder that he'd been covering with his hand when the hunter had confronted him. Just when he'd been about to command his boyfriend to press the towel onto the injury, the angel spoke up softly, startling him.  
  
\- "They were planning to kill you", he rasped, voice dry and rough; while still not meeting Sam's eyes.  
  
The hunter took a deep breath and placed his left hand on Gabriel's knee again, in a gesture of quiet comfort.  
  
\- "Gabe, you--... you need to stop doing that."  
  
\- "What?"  
  
Deciding that he at least wanted to get something down while they were having this conversation, he pressed the dripping towel into the archangel's hand.  
  
\- "Shoulder", he ordered, and to his surprised, Gabriel raised his hand to put pressure onto the slash without objecting even once, while Sam began to gently dab off the blood on the shorter man's chest; and a pained hiss escaped the angel, although he'd noticably tried to hold it back. And, oh, who would've thought, it didn't make the hunter think less of him. And it didn't make him feel bad for hurting him, either. But Gabriel just wouldn't understand that.  
  
However, Sam knew that the archangel still hadn't completely gotten over what had happened before he'd found refuge with Team Free Will - hell, neither had he! -, and so he was ready and willing to be as patient with him as he had to. He wouldn't pressure him, unless it was necessary.  
  
And right now, it was necessary. More than that even. He needed to, _he had_ _to_ convince Gabriel not to take so many bullets for him. He didn't know what he'd do if the angel died because of him, _again_. He'd seen Gabriel die just how many times now? Three? Four? Five? He wouldn't be able to stand it again. All the guilt, and the grief, and the doubt he'd barely gotten over now.  
  
\- "Sacrificing yourself. I told you I needed you", he said quietly, reaching for the bandages to take care of a nasty-looking gash he'd found on the underside of Gabriel's right forearm. "And needing someone means..." He closed his eyes, breathing out audibly, "Not being able to go on without them" When he dared to look up at his boyfriend again, he was surprised to find him staring directly into his eyes. "I told you I can't go on without you, Gabe. So why-- why do you keep doing that?"  
  
After a few seconds of wordlessly looking at each other, Sam went back to quietly dressing the angel's wounds. Some minutes passed, and the hunter had already accepted silence as an answer, therefore not really expecting to hear anything from Gabriel except for pained held-back groans and ragged breaths anymore until he was back on his feet - and even then, he'd probably go back to his usual perky self instead; and the topic would be off the table until they found themselves in another situation like this. Which, hopefully, wouldn't happen all too soon, though. Sam wasn't sure if he could possibly sit through all this again.  
  
But just when the hunter had finished stitching up and neatly dressing the angel's shoulder, the shorter man suddenly raised his voice again, so softly that Sam almost didn't catch his words.  
  
\- "'Cause I love you."  
  
He didn't know what to say to that. He really didn't know. Swallowing, he attempted to put his thoughts into words, but no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't find any. Guilt and emotional pain were washing over him, tearing at him like he was a clump of grass caught in a riptide. When, after a minute, he finally managed to form and voice a single sentence, it was with his throat feeling horribly dry, and with his heart beating a little too fast in his tight chest.  
  
\- "That's no reason to almost get yourself killed all the time."  
  
\- "It is if I can save your life like that."  
  
Gabriel's stubbornness would be the death of him one day. There was no way to get through to him, no way to break down his walls, to make him realize that he was _wrong_ , that he _couldn't go on like this_ , that this _wasn't how relationships worked_. Sam had tried everything from shouting at him while they were having one of their infamous unnecessary fights, over whispering it into his ear in the middle in the night, to casually mentioning it during breakfast; and yet, here they were now, talking about the very same thing for the probably twentieth time.  
  
But Sam, no matter how tired or exhausted or angry or desperate he was, no matter the time, no matter the situation, he wouldn't give up. Not now, not ever. Because one day, Gabriel would have to understand. Either that, or he would die. And then Sam would be blaming himself, for the rest of his life, until he, too, bit the dust. And he would keep blaming himself on his deathbed, and in heaven - or hell if things worsened from now on.  
  
Not wanting to hear more of the angel's weak excuses and arguments, he settled for a short, almost _harsh_ "It's not if you make my life hell like that". Gabriel opened his mouth, making a move to speak up, presumably about to protest, but a quick glance shut him up before he could even say a single word.  
  
\- "Lay down", the hunter commanded once he'd finished taking care of the wounds on the archangel's chest and arms; and against Sam's expectations, Gabriel slowly heaved his feet onto the bed to lay down on his front without protest, his muscles tensing visibly as he carefully lowered himself onto the soft mattress. The hunter could hear the angel's breath quiver when Gabriel inhaled, no matter how hard he tried to force himself to breathe evenly and slowly in order to hide his distress. Carefully, Sam placed a soothing hand on Gabriel's spine as he, too, moved to sit down on the bed so he could reach the few injuries on the shorter man's back better.  
  
\- "You don't need to pretend to be okay, you know."  
  
Again, his words cut through the silence; and again, he got no response. But he was okay with that; knowing that the angel had heard and perceived his words, one way or another.  
  
Looking over the few small scratches and cuts, and noticing that - much to Sam's relief - they weren't anything near severe, the hunter allowed himself to silently admire Gabriel's shoulders for a few seconds, before the angel's amused voice tore him from his thoughts.  
  
\- "Like what you see, Sammich?", he perked up, craning his neck in an uncomfortable looking way to cast him a cheeky grin paired with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows; and Sam really couldn't deny that his boyfriend was more than right in his assumption.  
  
Rolling his eyes - and resisting the urge to tenderly caress Gabriel's pale bare skin with his fingers -, he grabbed another towel, and gently dabbed the angel's back, starting from his neck and slowly moving down until he'd reached his twelfth rib. Tossing the towel to the pile of blood-soaked cloths in the corner, he breathed out in relief, glad that there hadn't been any life-threatening injuries he'd had to take care of; and only two he'd had to stitch up.  
  
\- "What about your legs?"  
  
The telling smirk that Gabriel flashed him was enough of an answer for him, and honestly, he was kind of glad he didn't have to take care of his boyfriend's lower body; as things definitely wouldn't have ended the way he would've wanted - then again, _not the way he wanted_ with Gabriel was _way better than the way he wanted_ about fifty percent of the time...  
  
Shaking his head to get rid of the thought, he made a move to get up from the bed. He couldn't quite help but press a quick kiss to the spot between Gabriel's shoulder blades before he stood, though, causing a shiver to run down the archangel's tense back. Dismissing his original plan to gather up the towels and the shirt, he ended up in front of the door with one hand on the handle instead. The damn laundry could wait as far as he was concerned.  
  
\- "You want something to eat?"  
  
\- "Candy?"  
  
Wordlessly, and with a soft smile, he closed the door behind himself. Before he made his way to the kitchen, however, he took a quick detour to retrieve his phone from where it was still laying on the table in the war room. Taking a look at the screen, he dialled Dean's number while heading for the kitchen - normally, he wouldn't have called back, but judging by the seven missed calls and the bunch of annoyed texts, his brother was a little on edge already, and he could definitely do without a furious Dean Winchester right now.   
  
The older hunter picked up only seconds later, and while Sam shuffled through shelves and drawers, looking for food he could place on the plate he'd gotten from one of the top shelves, he listened _intently_ to Dean's rant about the taller man's inability to answer a call. He didn't say a single thing until his brother had finished his angry monologue and was finally cutting to the chase. Sam didn't exactly want to let him know about the thing with Gabriel, since Dean had always been somewhat suspicious of the archangel, and had never really approved of him or their relationship.  
  
A few minutes and many suppressed annoyed groans later, they'd successfully exchanged information, Sam had promised to look into the whole matter as soon as possible, and a plate had been filled with multiple kinds of snacks, including chips, candy he'd surprisingly found in some drawer, and chocolate.  
  
Quickly saying goodbye to his protesting brother, he hung up, let the phone slip back into the pocket of his pants, and let the door to his room swing open.  
  
Gabriel's perky amber eyes shot up when Sam returned, and, luckily, the familiar cheeky expression on the angel's face seemed mostly genuine, so the hunter let it slide without commenting on it. A smile tugged at his lips when he took in the sight that was Gabriel wrapped up in a silk blanket and the duvet, his head propped up on a pile of pillows that he'd stacked up at the head of the bed - and wearing one of the very few hoodies that Sam still owned. At second glance, the hunter noticed his own opened laptop on the bed, right next to a familiar clean and neatly folded dark red shirt.  
  
Not even trying to hold back his beaming smile, he simply walked over to get underneath the covers as well, so he could wrap his arms around his boyfriend who immediately snuggled up to his side.  
  
Wordlessly, Sam bent over to open Netflix and start the seventh episode of season four of Prison Break. He'd never watched a single minute of the show, he didn't even know what exactly it was about, but he'd seen it in his recent searches often enough to figure out that Gabriel liked to unknowingly use his account - and right now, he was really okay with that. And the angel was, too, judging by the happy smile that lit up his face as he leant up to press a chaste kiss against the hunter's lips.  
  
And although he'd held Gabriel in his arms at the beginning, he was the one who ended up with his head placed on his boyfriend's slowly heaving chest a half episode later.  
  
It would've made him feel safe, and loved, and at peace. If only his thoughts hadn't been so loud, constantly pushing themselves to the fore.  
  
Because right now, this whole situation was just a reminder of how much Gabriel loved him.  
  
Of how much he loved him more than his own life. A reminder that the angel would always keep going, would always be there for him, would always take a bullet for him if it meant that he could keep him safe.  
  
That he would rather waste his own life than risk Sam's.  
  
That he would keep putting his life on the line for him. Always, anytime.  
  
That he would keep getting hurt.  
  
And Sam knew exactly that one day, he wouldn't be there to fix it.  
  
\- "You'll always be there to fix it. To fix me."  
  
Sam's eyes were set on the screen in front of him.  
  
\- "Stop reading my thoughts."  
  
\- "I can't. They're too loud."  
  
He swallowed thickly.  
  
\- "I know. I'm sorry."  
  
\- "Don't be."  
  
He clenched the fabric of Gabriel's hoodie in his hand.  
  
\- "Please don't go."  
  
\- "I won't."  
  
He laughed, bitterly.  
  
\- "You will. We both know that you will."  
  
He tried his hardest to hold back the tears as Gabriel went silent for a few seconds.  
  
\- "...I'm sorry, Sam."  
  
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes.  
  
He fell asleep, desperately holding on to the man he knew he couldn't hold on to.


End file.
